


Kintsugi

by Taimat



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avenger Loki (Marvel), Fluff, Happy Ending, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Loki (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Loki (Marvel) Has PTSD, Loki (Marvel) Joins the Avengers, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame, Reconciliation, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, eventual thorki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 14:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20676974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taimat/pseuds/Taimat
Summary: In his ears, he could still hear the shatter, and it broke him somewhere deep inside. The crack of ceramic, the crunch of his spine, the rending of his heart.





	Kintsugi

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the At Dawn Thorki Zine, way back in November of 2018.
> 
> I’m so happy I can finally share it with you all. It’s very personal, and very near and dear to my heart.
> 
> (For those who might not know, kintsugi is the ancient Japanese art form of repairing broken pottery by fusing the broken pieces together with gold. This results in pieces that are unique and considered all the more beautiful for their usefulness, care, and attention to detail in piecing then back together.)
> 
> Comments are so, so appreciated! 💕
> 
> Moodboard is by @na_shao on AO3, @spreadtheashes on Twitter.
> 
> Ending illustration is by @virushoney on Twitter.

The winter sun streamed through the window, leaving behind much of its cold as it filtered through the glass and imparting only light, which shone merrily upon Loki’s workspace. The desk itself was open and bright, but it was the dark, sealed cabinet above that held the true prize. Opening one door, long fingers proceeded to dance along labeled metal tins, their contents meticulously hidden from view.

Tea selected, Loki then chose an unassuming heavy mug to pair with it. It was plain, being only a muted shade of grey, but Loki favored it for its simplicity and utility.

The electric kettle was switched on, and Loki began spooning tea leaves into the strainer basket as he waited for the water to boil.

It would have been easy enough to magic up some water at the perfect temperature, but ever since being returned to life after death by strangulation — not to mention the trauma of everything that had come before — Loki found himself taking solace in routine. In the simplest tasks. In taking his time to dally in small pleasures and flying in the face of the god of chaos title that he had so embodied, once.

Things were a little different, now. He was different, now. Everything had changed, and he didn’t know when things would go back to the way they had once been, if they ever did.

Thor said he needed time, a sentiment which was shared by his...new allies, he supposed. Loki, for his part, was just glad that they seemed to leave him alone more often than not. He didn’t want them around. He didn’t need anyone gawking at the way his hands trembled sometimes, or the way his breath came too quickly as though he’d never get it back, or the way he startled easily at loud noises that reminded him of things he’d all too soon forget.

He didn’t need that. He didn’t need them.

This, however, was something he let himself have.

With a hum of satisfaction, Loki wrapped his hands around the hot mug, leeching the warmth from the tea into his cold fingers. He breathed in the steam, the clean aroma of life filling his senses, and closed his eyes.

The first sip was bliss, and the second even more so. Loki sighed and let his shoulders drop, leaning one hip against his desk and staring down into the clear yellow-green of his tea, indistinguishable from the grey backdrop of the mug.

A distant crash outside had him gripping his cup tightly and biting his lower lip. He’d come so far, grown so much, and yet something about the sound still made him want to run and hide. Loki couldn’t quite explain it. Maybe it was the years of conditioning, years of expecting the rumble of thunder to be followed with chasing and fighting and narrow escapes.

Thunder boomed again, and Loki trembled.

But he was better. He was better than this. Dying, coming back, dying, coming back, dying — for what he’d been certain was the last time — and yet coming back… And Thor was always there for him. Despite everything he’d done and would likely continue to do, his brother hadn’t given up on him, yet. Despite knowing exactly what Loki was, knowing what he was capable of, Thor refused to leave him.

It was overwhelming, at times.

Loki took another sip to try and calm his nerves.

Recently, he’d been plagued by his own mind, thoughts running wild and anxieties bubbling to the surface, horrid memories of the past returning to torment him. He couldn’t figure it out. Maybe it was the fact that he finally had a moment to breathe and wasn’t constantly running on adrenaline and suppressing everything. Maybe he had simply snapped after all these years. Whatever the reason, the tea helped.

Pouting at the window and at the sudden raging storm that darkened the skies, Loki mulled over the fact that, despite the apparent forgiveness and, dare he say it, approval from Thor’s friends and teammates, it didn’t escape him that he’d not once been asked to accompany them. Not in defense, not in patrolling, not even in training.

Forgiven, but not accepted. Allowed, but not trusted. Living among them, but ever the outsider.

He sighed.

It was fine. It was nothing he couldn’t handle. At the very least, he was healing himself and his mind, and someday, he would be just as strong as he ever was.

That was what he told himself, at any rate. He had to believe it, or else he’d go mad with despair at all he’d lost.

With a huff, he pulled a little bit of warmth back into his cooling tea. The tug on his magic was a bit uncomfortable, but at least it wasn’t painful, anymore. He was recovering. He was getting better. He was—

The door to his room swung open with a bang, and Loki sucked in a breath.

He could see it happen in slow motion. The trembling of his fingers, the way they lost their grip on the mug, tried and failed to catch it in midair. The shatter of ceramic against his wooden floor, the snapping of the handle, the cracks that spread along the surface of his cup like veins, accompanying the crash and subsequent tinkling noise. And in the end, he was left frozen in place, staring at the mess of tea and pottery strewn along the ground.

Loki swallowed and backed up, dropping heavily onto his bed and barely managing to remain sitting upright, even as he lifted his eyes to meet his brother’s.

Thor was standing there with a grin, like nothing much had happened. Like Loki’s life hadn’t just quickly spun wildly and reversed.

“Loki!” he boomed, his voice much too loud for the small room. “You’re needed! I managed to convince them that this was just the sort of thing you would excel at, and they—“

Loki tuned his brother out.

It was everything he’d wanted. To be let in. To be accepted. To be needed and appreciated.

But he...but he…

Loki stared hard at the tea spreading slowly along the floorboards and swallowed. He’d been trying so hard to mend himself. He’d thought he was better than this, stronger than this. He...he…

Loki hiccuped and closed his eyes.

“I can’t,” he blurted out before Thor could even finish his rambling.

He caught only Thor’s confused, “What?” before teleporting away, ignoring the way his magic stung at his core, trying not to feel like even more of a failure than he already was.

In his ears, he could still hear the shatter, and it broke him somewhere deep inside. The crack of ceramic, the crunch of his spine, the rending of his heart.

~~~~~~~

Hours later, Loki returned to his rooms, his tenuous control over himself and his emotions once again grasped. The complex was eerily quiet, which soothed him rather than unsettled him. The last thing he wanted was to deal with anyone else. Not right now.

Thor was gone, and so was his broken mug. But Loki didn’t know how to feel about either. And so all he did was stare at the spot where the mug had once been, thinking and trying not to lapse back into tears, motionless until the dark of night descended and moonlight crept upon the world.

~~~~~~~

Morning brought with it no new revelations, but Loki found himself full of a kind of resigned calm. This was his life, now. Drifting and broken. He didn’t know why he’d ever imagined it would be otherwise.

He dressed and ascended the stairs in a haze. It was simple enough to float along, winding between the Avengers, responding wordlessly to any inquiries as he scavenged together a breakfast and ate quietly, content to ignore and be ignored. Surely the only person who really cared about his well-being was Thor, and the Aesir was conspicuously absent. It was easy to fill his belly and return to his rooms again, unaffected by anything and anyone.

The problem he found himself now faced with was what to do with the remnants of his life. He’d spent so long trying to heal, trying to piece himself back together, and now that he’d accepted his permanent failure to do so, Loki didn’t know how he was going to spend his days.

He opened his tea cupboard unconsciously, long fingers ghosting along the canisters. What to do…

A sharp knock at his door startled Loki out of further introspection, and he frowned as he turned to look at it. No one ever knocked. The only being that cared to grace his rooms with its presence was Thor, and Thor never bothered knocking.

“Come in,” Loki called, though it sounded a fair bit like a question, even to his own ears.

He was shocked when a familiar blond head and tall frame appeared in the open doorway.

“Brother,” Thor murmured, his entire aura subdued and softened in a way that only confused Loki further.

“Yes?” was all Loki managed.

“I’ve come to apologize.”

The statement was so unexpected that Loki had no reply, and he could only stare, dumbfounded, as Thor strode slowly forward.

“In my delight at seeing you restored, in my happiness at having you once again beside me, I blinded myself to the reality of what was happening inside you. I looked at you often, but I did not truly see you, not until last night. And now I wonder if it is too late, though I hope with every ounce of fibre in my being that it is not.”

Loki’s brow furrowed, and he couldn’t formulate a response beyond a breathy, “Pardon?”

“I know now how you’ve been struggling. I couldn’t—no. I did not wish to see it, before. And that was selfish of me.”

Thor stepped closer, and Loki found himself abruptly wrapped in a tight hug. What was most surprising of all, however, was that fact that he...he didn’t really want to leave the embrace.

“You are the most important thing in the universe, to me,” Thor continued. “And I apologize for not putting you before myself.”

“What do you mean?” Loki croaked, throat tight even as his own hands rose to grip helplessly at the fabric of Thor’s tunic.

“You need my help. I can see that now. I’ve been letting you drift by yourself when I should have been at your side to support you from the very beginning.”

Loki shook his head. “You’ve been here always.”

“Not as I should have been. Not as you needed me to be.”

Thor pulled away slightly, enough to look into Loki’s searching gaze, and brought one arm between them.

Loki glanced down automatically and found that Thor was presenting him with what looked suspiciously like his old mug. It was the same unobtrusive shade of grey, the same size and shape, but where it had been in pieces the last time he’d seen it, it was rendered whole again. Lines of gold now cut across its surface, dancing along what had previously been split edges, mending the entire piece in a way that was stunning to behold.

“I know you are much changed from the brother I once knew. And I know that you’ll never be the same again, no matter how hard I might wish it. But I also know that you are far from irreparable. I want to help you, Loki. I want to see you remade into something new and better than before, all the more beautiful for the suffering you’ve had to endure to achieve it.”

Loki swallowed hard, afraid to touch the reforged piece in front of him for fear that he’d break it again, afraid to loosen his grip on Thor for fear that he’d lose him again, and afraid to speak for fear that he’d only end up crying again.

But after a long pause, he whispered, “Why?”

“Because I love you. Unashamedly and wholeheartedly.” Thor’s answer came without delay, and the look in his eyes was so earnest that Loki had no choice but to believe him.

“What,” Loki swallowed hard, “what are you saying, Thor?”

“I’m saying that I want you to be with me, as I will be with you. And I ask that you let me in. Let me take care of you, brother. Let me love you. Let me help piece you together and fill you with gold — beautiful, as you should always be. If that’s...if that’s agreeable to you.”

Loki shuddered in Thor’s hold, hands gripping tighter. “What if you can’t?” he protested. “I’ve been broken so thoroughly that I don’t know how much I even have left in me. What if I’m no more than dust? What if the gold doesn’t stick? And I’m just this, forever?”

“Then I will remain with you in any capacity you allow me, and for however long you deem acceptable. You’re my brother, Loki. My love for you will never change.”

It would be unfair, and yet...Loki was not known for being altruistic. He was selfish, and it would not be out of character for him to accept, mayhaps, and keep the golden god all to himself. “And what if I say yes? What if I want to see if it’s...possible? What if I want to let you try to fix me? To let _ us _ try to fix me?”

“Then you will surely make me the happiest man in existence, and I might very well kiss you to thank you for it.”

Loki chortled, and if it was a bit hysterical, neither of them mentioned it. “So unexpectedly romantic…” And then, “Only might? Are you so uncertain?”

A smile teased at the corner of Thor’s mouth, and he leaned closer. “Were I not worried of invoking your ire by forcing unwanted attentions onto you, I would have done it already.”

Loki’s breath hitched, and he urged himself to pause. Only an idiot would refuse such an offer. But was it what he wanted? Truly?

He imagined a future without Thor in it. A future where he was broken and alone, burdened with anxiety and despair. It was not so far from his current reality.

But if he accepted, what then? Thor would be true to his word, Loki knew, and he would support him and help him with every resource he had. Loki wouldn’t be left to fight on his own any longer. And with the two of them working together, then maybe…

Loki looked down at the cup again and licked his lips.

Slowly, gently, he relaxed one of his hands and brought it up between them. His fingers curled around the mug, over and atop Thor’s. Beneath their joined hands, gold shimmered and glinted in the light.

It reminded Loki of the gold of Thor’s hair, the gold of his skin, and the bright sparkle of his smile.

“Well then, brother,” Loki murmured, before tilting his chin upward with a tentative smirk. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Thor chuckled and leaned in, brushing their lips together in the lightest of kisses. Loki gasped, and in the moment before he pressed himself closer, releasing himself fully into Thor’s embrace, he could swear he felt the shards of his heart beginning to mend.

* * *


End file.
